Kissing Ben
by Ishums
Summary: Short story about a woman and her celebrity friend Ben. Inspired by a reddit AMA I read recently, and written for no other reason than I felt like it and was avoiding studying for finals.


"Ben?" I asked, glass of water in hand, rounding the corner of the small, carpeted staircase.

It was a hot night, and a thin nightgown was my only protection against the noise, and possible intruder, that I had heard. I quickly considered retrieving the baseball bat from underneath my bed, but my curiosity overcame my caution. A shrill female laugh cut through the air, breaking the tense silence. I paused, confused.

Another female voice joined in the laughter, and in a drunken slur said, "Oh, my gawd, he passed out!"

"Melanie! Shh!" The first voice scolded, and then broke again into loud giggles contrary to her words. "Help me get him up!"

I heard more banging around, and the distinct sound of cheap heels scratching my wooden floors. Irritated, I leaned over the banister hoping to glare at what I suspected were cheap floozies, without barging too much into the privacy of my houseguest by giving away my presence, and inevitably scolding the cheap floozies he had brought home with him.

I spied Ben, and suppressed a smirk. He had obviously had too much to drink, and was passed out on the bottom landing, all six feet of him splayed along the bottom steps. His curly head, nestled in the crook of an arm. Two thin, wobbly footed girls in tight dresses, and too many bangles, tried in vain to lift him to his feet. He grunted and waved them off, apparently comfortable with his current arrangement.

"I think you gave him too much." The shorter, whinier girl pouted. "Now he's not good for anything."

"Ashley," She wheedled. "Let's just go home, okay? I don't feel so good." She could barely stand in her ridiculous heels, and I feared for a moment that she was going to lose her undoubtedly over-priced drinks all over my beautiful floors. I love my floors. I put them in by hand. I installed everything in my house by hand, but my floors were a pain in the ass and I didn't like them being mistreated this way, especially not by floozies.

"Shut up Melanie. If you're not going to help, then keep filming."

I saw something in cheap floozy number two's hand (Melanie?) that made my heart stop, and my brain start to think of escape and triage plans. It was three in the morning, and I was still bleary eyed from sleep so I hadn't noticed it at first, but in her too-tan and clawed little fist she held a cellphone, and it hit me in that instant that she was recording a video.

In the age of youtube and wikileaks, one video could make or break a person, and a career. I felt a sudden burning and indignant anger towards these brainless twats. They were no longer harmless, they were now a threat. I considered again going for the bat.

I made myself known instead. "What the hell is going on down there?" I bellowed in my most authoritarian, and not five-foot-two, voice. I didn't normally command a lot of attention, and had even been described by a newspaper as "mousy" once, but I hoped these drunk floozies would be easy enough to scare off.

I heard startled gasps, and the deliciously satisfying clatter of a cellphone smacking against the ground.

I crossed my arms and breathed hatred down at the girls. If possible, they were wearing even less than I was, but once they saw me, their confidence, the confidence of the beautiful, returned and they still wore it better than I did.

"Who's this bitch?" The ringleader, Ashley, sneered at me, hands on hips and venom pooling in her eyes. I gave her eye for eye. I had grown up with girls like this, girls that had a fundamental understanding of who they were better than, and had learned to protect myself with my mouth.

"The bitch that owns this house." I said in a flat voice. "The bitch that's kicking you out." I pointed to the door.

"Lucy?" Ben smiled drunkenly, and waved a hand lazily in the air in greeting. I glanced down, and assessed him. He didn't just look drunk. He looked ravaged.

"What the hell did you do to him?" Ben's shirt was askew and untucked. There were lipstick marks lining his collar, and smeared across his neck. He was going to have so many bite marks, he'd look like he'd been in a dogfight. I saw his slacks were half-unbuckled, and my gut went cold. Youtube and a lack of clothing were never a good combination.

"Things you never could." The quick witted bitch quipped.

"What did you give him?" I growled, ignoring her sass. "Did you slip him something?"

"Oh, he wanted everything we gave him." Bitch number one had a manic look in her eye. She clutched the banister to support herself, still drunk, and licked her lips when she looked down at him. My midnight snack threatened to climb up my throat and relieve itself in her face.

The shorter floozy was getting nervous. She had been down on the floor mourning her cracked screen, and only now piped up.

"We gave him some E." She said in a high-pitched, and slightly more sober voice. "But he doesn't look so good."

"Shut up, Melanie!" Ashley whipped her viper tongue around.

"You. Fucking. Idiots. GET THE FUCKING FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE!" I lost it, and barreled past Ben, screaming and waving my arms like a baboon. I took delight in the sight of their eyes widening and their mad dash in heels to get though the front door. The stairs were right next to the door so it wasn't a very long dash, but it was still satisfying.

I locked the dead-bolt behind them with a relieved finality, and leaned against it. I had somehow managed to hold on to my glass of water, and briefly contemplated pouring its contents on Ben's head. I reconsidered, as this would make me a rude host, and set it down on a table. Ben had a dreamy smile plastered to his face, and was watching me through half-closed lids, completely unperturbed.

"Hullo." He greeted me, his deep voice slurred by pills and alcohol.

"Hello, Ben." I crossed my arms, uncertain of what I should do with this gentle sleepy giant. "How was your evening?" I asked, my voice dripping with the last shreds of what had just taken place.

"It was nice. I won an award thingy." He groped around for it, and then gave up. "My head is swimming."

"Drugs will do that to you, Ben."

"Drugs? I don't do those." I laughed, and he looked at me, trying to focus his eyes. "I don't." He insisted, petulant.

"Okay, okay. Let's get you to bed, huh?"

"Yea, that's a good idea. Bed sounds nice." He rubbed his eyes, blinked rapidly, and struggled into a sitting position, and then promptly fell over again. "Oof, I'm a bit dizzy." He cradled his head in his hands, and my residual anger melted away. It wasn't his fault floozies had tried to take advantage of him.

I uncrossed my arms and bent down to give him a shoulder to lean on. I hoisted him upright, but when he leaned his full weight on me we almost toppled down the stairs.

"Okay, Ben." I said encouragingly. "It's only a flight of stairs. We can do this!" I steadied my hold on him, and we made our wobbly way to the second landing. "One more to go! We're almost there!"

"Ha, we're stair-masters." He doubled over-laughing at his own joke, and he dragged me down with him. I landed on top of him, my feet unable to find a purchase, and my skirt bunched up between us. Clinging to his shirt I tried to roll off of him, completely aware of how disarrayed my nightgown had become, but his hands wrapped around my waist, surprising me. He was still smiling and laughing, but his attitude had changed. He looked up at me innocently, drunkenly, and buried his face in my neck.

"You smell good." He slurred, breathing into my hair. He was pressed up against me and he smelled like a mix of cologne and cognac and other women's perfume and my brain didn't know what to do with this information. I froze as his hands travelled from my waist, down my thighs, and I only reacted as his fingers finally tried to slide my nightgown up.

"Oh, boy." I pushed at one of his hands, and tried again to roll off of him, but he managed to roll on top of me instead. His lips started teasing my neck, and he pushed himself between my thighs. I felt him hard against me, and I blushed feverishly.

"Ben!" I squeaked. "Ben, you are so drunk, right now." I laughed nervously. "And this is going to be so funny tomorrow, but really, you should get to bed."

"I want to go to bed with you." He whispered huskily in my ear. His teeth bit down on my neck, and his hand groped my breast through my nightgown, and my brain panicked. I shoved him off me, and slapped him. He froze, and slowly brought his hand to his cheek. His eyes seemed to clear, and he stared at me, dumbfounded.

"Ben, I cannot stress enough how ridiculously drunk you are right now." I stuttered, panting. He watched me, still crouched above me, still holding his cheek. "And I cannot stress enough how drunk I am not." We watched each other for a moment, and then he finally looked away. The drunken happiness was gone from his face. I reached for him.

"Ben, I'm your friend." He tried to stand, and when I steadied him he jerked away from me.

"Ben?" He wouldn't meet my eye.

"I'm fine. I just... I think I need to go. I think it's best if I leave."

My heart skipped. This night was turning sour, and all the adrenaline drained from me and made my lip quiver.

"Ben, I think it's actually best of you go lie down and go to sleep." I tried to reason with him.

"No, I think I'm going to go."

"Ben… you… you're just so drunk. You can barely stand." He was teetering on a step, clutching at the rail, blinking in a vain attempt to clear the rest of the fog from his vision.

"I'm fine." He mumbled, and rubbed at his eyes.

"Ben?" I tried to take his arm again, and this time he let me. He hid his eyes in his hair, looking like an ashamed puppy. I put my arm under his and he whispered a shaky apology that I almost didn't catch.

"It's okay, Ben. Let's get you to bed."

He was silent as I helped him up the stairs, and into the room he had been staying in. I had met him through a friend who told me about this actor who needed a place to stay for a few weeks, and had offered him one of the rooms in the house I had just moved into and renovated. I had never heard of him before, but apparently he was some big shot British actor who had been in a few American movies. I tried my best not to google him while he was staying with me, but one night while over at a friend's house I had happened to mention his name and she had gone ballistic and introduced be to a few of the shows she was completely obsessed with.

"How have you never heard of him, Lucy?" She had squealed, and immediately insisted on coming over to meet him. I had tried not to hang out with her too much after that.

He was pretty good at what he did, but I wasn't the type to go all fangirl over it. I didn't get out much, and I didn't watch a lot of movies. When I did go out it was usually for supplies for my renovation. I wasn't a professional, but I had made enough on book sales that I didn't have to work like a normal person, and this was the hobby I chose to occupy myself with. I enjoyed making my old house beautiful again, giving it a second chance at glory.

A few weeks had turned into a few months, as Ben conducted whatever business he was here in the states for, and we had turned from acquaintances to friends. Our personalities were miles apart, he was a bit of a wild partier, and I was getting used to the parade of floozies, but we always managed to make each other laugh, and he liked Mario Kart, so he had that going for him. I didn't bug him about when he was leaving, or his lifestyle, and somehow the dishes always ended up getting cleaned, the yard stayed mowed, and there was always a big pot of tea ready for breakfast.

This night had been a fluke. Ben was attractive, and somehow managed to be shy and flirtatious at the same time, but even though he flirted he had never made any kind of pass at me. My friends didn't understand how you could live with someone you weren't sleeping with, especially someone like as striking as Ben, but the relationship that had grown between us just seemed to work.

So far as I knew he didn't already have a sex tape online, and he didn't seem to be making headlines for his excessive partying, and I seemed to be the only person who really knew exactly how many multitudes of women he had slept with. It was almost as if he were being responsible about it. Guarding his reputation, but still satisfying his appetite. This is what had made me so furious with the two handi-cam sextresses. Just one slip could ruin Ben's carefully cultivated image, and bring his career crashing down around his ears. I was friends with people in the business, and I had seen it happen firsthand. The drugs the girls had slipped Ben had almost been his undoing, and I could see they still had a hold on him now.

He fell into his bed like a puddle, and I drew the sheets across him. He still wore his Armani suit, but after what had just happened I didn't even dare take off his shoes. It's not as if I weren't attracted to Ben. I don't think anyone that met him could honestly say they weren't at least a little curious about what his dark suits and fashionable clothes concealed, but he was truly my friend, and sometimes you have to protect your friends from making bad decisions. If he ever decided to rip my clothes off while he was sober – I'd probably let him.

I could still remember the rough touch of his hand on my breast, and it hastened my footsteps as I closed the door behind me. My pulse was racing, as I climbed into my own bed. I didn't think I would be able to find sleep but as I stared at the ceiling it pulled me down into dreams of sex, food, and running.

I usually dreamed about zombies. I wrote Zombie novels and the occasional script for horror show, so this was the world I lived in day and night. The passion in the dreams I had now was new to me, and I woke a short while later with an uneasy feeling. It took a second to focus my eyes, and I realized then why something had felt so wrong. Someone else was in the bed with me.

Ben had kicked off his shoes, and most of his clothes, and had curled up in bed beside me. I glanced at the clock on my bedside table and sighed, too tired to deal with this right now. I had to get up in an hour to go for a run before I met with my agent. I closed my eyes, and instantly fell back to sleep. When I awoke again, I found that Ben had wrapped himself around me, and was breathing gently on the back of my neck, completely oblivious to my blaring alarm. I reached over to turn it off, and he squeezed me in protest, mumbling something incoherent.

I lay there for a second, absorbing the strangeness of the night before, and the continuing absurdity of this morning. Sighing, I looked down at the tousled hair nestled casually against my chest, and thought how best to extricate myself.

"Ben?" I whispered. I hesitated, then touched his hair, trying to find his face in his mass of auburn curls.

"Hmm?" He smiled sleepily, eyes still closed.

"Ben, I need to get up."

"No." His arms wrapped tighter around me, and he nuzzled his face against my arm.

"Are you still drunk?" I laughed, despite the oddness of the situation.

"Probably." He let out a big billowing sigh, and I could feel the heat of it. "No, I'm not." His eyes opened and met mine. We looked at each other for a moment, and I'm sure we were both thinking the same thing – that neither of us knew what to do next.

Slowly, Ben withdrew his arms from me and sat up. The sheet was tangled around his bare waist, and I looked away once I realized I was staring. He was in good shape and it was hard not to. I hoped he wasn't completely naked, because that would make this even more awkward, but the thought of his naked body having been pressed up against mine all night made me light headed – in a good way.

I swallowed. He ran his hands through his hair. We avoided looking at each other.

"So…" I began awkwardly. "Um, sleep well?" I tried to smile.

His laughed was forced. "Not really." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I really don't know why I'm in here…" He trailed off, searching for words.

"Yea?"

"I just remember… I don't think I wanted to be alone." He looked up, dark blue eyes pleading with me to understand.

"Oh. Well, that was probably the Ecstasy." I shrugged. "It can really bum you out. It makes everything really great for a little while, though…"

"I should have known better, those girls... I'm sorry to involve you." His face held an agonizing amount of guilt.

"Hey, it's okay. Friends are for involving in stuff, right?" I smiled at him reassuringly. "I just hope that bitch's camera really broke." Chuckling nervously, my face fell at his expression.

"Camera?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yea, never mind." I tried to change the subject. "So, you sleep naked?" He laughed, and it seemed genuine. The tension that had been clogging the air dissipated.

"Only when I'm on drugs, apparently." I nodded, searching for my next move.

"I'm going to go shower. That's not an invitation." I joked. "You should probably get dressed." I turned to slide out of bed, but I felt his hand touch my arm tentatively.

"Lucy?" I saw another request in his eyes, another silent prayer to be understood. "Thank you… for being a proper friend."

"Always."

I don't know why I said that. The word coalesced in my mouth without any forethought or intention. It seemed appropriate, and I saw it register with him. It clicked into place and finished the moment we were having, cementing it as an important event in our lives.

Ben's hand still lightly grasped my arm as he considered me, brow furrowed slightly. My hair was bushy from sleep and I could feel the giant bruises under my eyes from the lack of any. Ben looked as if he'd just been through three hours of make-up – absolutely perfect. Our worlds couldn't be more different, but I only saw respect in his eyes. Gently, I slid out of his grasp.

I showered, alone, and when I finished he was gone. Not gone forever, gone, but his coat wasn't where he usually hung it, gone. I didn't even think to question the fact that he would return. It was an obvious thing to me.

I had missed my chance for a run, but I was determined not to miss breakfast. I made my way down the stairs, and smiled when a familiar pot of tea greeted me in the kitchen. Warmth, and relief, filled me. Suppressed worry had been gnawing at the back of my mind, worry that I had lost a friend last night, but the sight of something so normal reassured me. I understood that something significant had happened, and I could feel the fundamental shift in our relationship, but I knew that if things don't evolve they stagnate and die, and I accepted this new changed state of being. I had hope and faith in the friendship that had been preserved.

Ben had needed someone to protect him from himself, and that is the defining role of true friendship. An acquaintance will laugh with you, and family will encourage you, but a friend will risk losing you to help you when you don't realize you need it. I hadn't meant to make this kind of decision for Ben, but I'm glad that I did. I would have felt only shame had I acted otherwise.

One day our relationship could evolve further, but for now, as I sip my tea, I'm thankful for the friend I have.

...

_Alternate, slashier ending:_

Ben's hand still lightly grasped my arm as he considered me, brow furrowed slightly. My hair was bushy from sleep and I could feel the giant bruises under my eyes from the lack of any. Ben looked as if he'd just been through three hours of make-up – absolutely perfect. Our worlds couldn't be more different, but I didn't see this in the look he gave me. Gently, he leaned in, and my breath stopped. He kissed me timidly, then deeply. My brain watched this happen from outside myself, analyzing each detail, preserving it in my memory, and debating whether or not it was really happening.

Long fingers cupped my cheek, then traced their way through my hair, down my back. He pulled me against him, and I climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Passionate, fumbling, he pulled my nightgown over my head. I crouched there, bare-chested, and suddenly embarrassed I tried to cover myself with my hands. He looked up at me through locks of dark hair and I didn't see judgment, or "mousy," I saw a man who wanted me.

Gently, he pulled my hands away, and looked. His finger followed the curve of my collar-bone, where an inch long jagged scar cut across from where the bone had once broken through. I had a cluster of freckles on my chest and he lazily connected the lines between them in soft brushstrokes, finding his way down my body. He treated my imperfections as artwork, curious, admiring. When his hand brushed across my breast, it was almost an afterthought, I gasped. He smiled wolfishly, hungry, but not done.

His hands slid down and cupped my waist, fingers dipping down below the line of my panties, tugging at them playfully. I moaned and curled a hand in his hair, pulling his lips to mine. I kissed him while he played with me. When I was close, he pushed me back on the bed, and somehow we were naked and pressed against each other. He slid inside me and I came. He held me to him, lifting me, as we rocked back and forth in a different kind of ecstasy. Waves of pleasure ebbed and flowed and I came again when he did. He shuddered, lost, and collapsed on top of me, sweaty and spent.

We lay there, finding our breath, releasing the rhythm we had created. My brain was slowly thawing, and the weight of what had just happened was starting to seep into my consciousness. I rolled over hiding my face on the covers, not wanting to return to reality yet. Ben pulled me close to him, and held me. I forgot my alarm. I forgot my meeting. I forgot everything but the feeling as he kissed my back, my neck. This was the only important thing in the world right now. I wanted to hold onto this moment.

I could feel the fundamental shift in our relationship, but I knew that if things don't evolve they stagnate and they die, and I accepted this new changed state of being. I had hope and faith that our friendship would be preserved. I had wanted Ben, and even without the haze and confusion of drugs, Ben had still wanted me. Things would work out. Friends or lovers, I would embrace whatever evolutionary road our relationship took.

Right now, in this singular, distinct moment, the warmth of his body against mine was my entire world. We fell asleep, wrapped in each other, filled and running over with the promise of the new day.

mk

...

Author's note: I wrote a second ending because the first one was so fluffy, but it's the one that I felt fit best with the story. I like the idea of Lucy respecting Ben's body while he is inebriated, and didn't think a sex scene would effectively convey this… but it was really fun to write so I included it.


End file.
